


Second-time love

by karamel_dreams



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Argo City, F/M, fluff at the end, karamel reunion at last, of course...where's the surprise, the superteam is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:25:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karamel_dreams/pseuds/karamel_dreams
Summary: “Kara trudged slowly through the small forest, tall trees carving a straight path to show her the way, as if they'd been expecting her and didn't want her to get lost. The light was limited, the shadows plenty, yet the blonde put one foot in front of the other and simply moved. She didn't know where she was going, didn't know what she was looking for, the only thing she was aware of was that heaviness in her chest, that unease she'd been carrying for the past few days...”





	Second-time love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [93Mika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/93Mika/gifts).



> Hey everyone! Hope you're all well :)
> 
> I'm still on hiatus, but I'm stopping by to post this for my sweet @93Mika, because I promised. Ily dude ♡
> 
> Also, I just read the comments you all left on Welcome, you're all lovely and I thank you so much! :')
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this one as well.

Kara trudged slowly through the small forest, tall trees carving a straight path to show her the way, as if they'd been expecting her and didn't want her to get lost. The light was limited, the shadows plenty, yet the blonde put one foot in front of the other and simply moved. She didn't know where she was going, didn't know what she was looking for, the only thing she was aware of was that heaviness in her chest, that unease she'd been carrying for the past few days.

The city behind her had already gone to sleep, welcoming the night with yawns and dreamless slumbers, but Kara couldn't. She shared her people's tiredness, their need for rest and a few hours of peaceful, sweet unawareness, but she couldn't find those stars she was used to sleeping under, she couldn't find those heartbeats that'd usually lull her mind away. The air felt foreign entering her lungs, the cold breeze violent in a way she secretly hated. It'd been six days after she'd decided to leave Earth, to come back to that tiny piece of home she'd miraculously found. Nevertheless, at the moment, Kara didn't feel at home, she only felt an entrapping sense of not-belonging, and the truth was, she hadn't expected such a notion to exist even when her feet were on Kryptonian soil.

The brown-colored dirt her boots stepped on was making her feel uncomfortable. The ground Kara remembered her child-self running on used to be red, a deep kind of scarlet that resembled Rao's own light shining down on what had once been her hometown. But now it was brown, like on Earth, and from it had grown grass and flowers and actual trees, things Kara hadn't seen on the old Krypton. Her planet had changed, Argo City painted a very different picture than the one the cities Kara could remember did. And this was no home to her, it was only a trick to numb her homesickness, which she'd come to realize would never really go away.

She continued to walk silently, her head covered by her hood, her clothes hidden under her new cloak. The wind hollowed, the leaves swayed, and the darkness engulfed her like a blanket. Without her powers, it was hard for Kara to see clearly, but she narrowed her eyes and kept going. She didn't really need the light anyway, she could hear the gentle sound of running water getting closer.

That was what she followed, what she let lead her path. Breathing in deeply, she inhaled the crisp air, and Kara knew that if she wanted to she could trick herself into thinking she was back in Midvale, on the beach, with her bare toes buried in the dry sand. She could close her eyes and imagine a different setting, a different world, a different feeling. She could. But she didn't dare to. For she didn't want to drag herself deeper into her misery, into her well-hidden notions of loss and regret.

It wasn't that she was honestly regretting coming to live to Argo, with her mom, with her own species — or rather what remained of it. And it wasn't that she didn't like waking up every morning to softly whispered Kryptonian greetings, the same ones her twelve-year-old self would also stir to. It was just that in all the years she'd spent on Earth, all those times she'd felt like the true alien she'd been, she hadn't realized that she had, in fact, made a home out of the family that'd taken her in, out of the city where she'd grown up and the city which she'd later moved to. She hadn't realized that she'd stopped comparing and had carved her own spot to settle in, and she liked that spot, she liked that life.

It was hard to get used to it, to not having to work at CatCo, to not having to report into the DEO, to not having to fly out her window and go rescue people. It was hard because she'd liked it. But most of all, it was hard to live with absence; J'onn's, Winn's, James', Lena's, Eliza's... _Alex's_. It was hard to live without her friends and human family, to get used to her sister not being just a phone call away. It was hard, and Kara should've expected it, should've known that the joy of reuniting with her mother wouldn't shadow the ache of leaving the people closest to her behind for long. So now she was paying for that forgetfulness, for that naivety, for that lie she'd told herself to make her departure feel less like her own skin had been ripping off. Because she had been supposed to be happy, she'd been supposed to have made a choice and be okay with it. And she couldn't have shown how torn she'd actually felt, how afraid, but now she was alone, and she was tired, and she didn't care about that single tear she'd allowed slip down her cheek.

With a heavy exhale through her nose, Kara finally found the clearing where the trees opened the way for a narrow river to pass. The water was clear, glistening underneath the soft light of the three moons looming over the blonde's head, and for a second she forgot about what she'd been missing. She took a couple of steps and approached the riverside, the red and orange pebbles the only things reminiscing the old Krypton. Here the ground looked more familiar, more welcoming in a sense, so Kara unbuttoned her cloak and let it fall around her legs. Then she took her shoes off, and although the water was freezing, she dipped her toes in. And when her eyelids fell shut at the sensation, she allowed her heart to dance along to its soothing rhythm. Because that very sensation encompassed the feeling of two worlds, of two homes, of two places so different from each other yet so dear to her. The red soil of Krypton gave away to the salty ocean of Earth - of Midvale and National City - and Argo offered her both in one, in that tiny stream, those orange pebbles, that surviving little fraction of something new having risen from the ashes of something gone and something missing.

But still, the frown settled once again upon her lips, the weight gripped once again her struggling heart, and Kara took a step backwards, losing that previous serenity within a brief second. She got out of the water and let her knees bend till she was on the ground, fallen and weak and entirely disinterested in the fact. A sob scratched at her throat, tears stang the corners of her eyes, yet she pursed her lips and breathed evenly — as if she wasn't falling apart, as if she wasn't unsure as to what was the cause of her pain, as if she wasn't so tired and confused and didn't know what it was that she needed. Or maybe she did know that last one, but she didn't dare admit it.

 _His_ name was right there, trapped behind her closed lips, a prayer of a kind she hadn't uttered in a while. _His_ absence was perhaps the loudest of them all, not the most painful one but surely the most felt. And although she'd grown used to this, grown used to _him_ being out of reach, Kara was spiraling out of control and succumbing to the need sculpted deep inside of her. She needed him and she should feel ashamed, she should be angry with her own self, for calling out the name of a man she wasn't sure whom his heart belonged to. But when the word escaped her mouth, when those two syllables rolled off her tongue, she couldn't find it in herself to feel shame or anger, she only felt that searing hopelessness of a wish unable to be fulfilled.

"Mon-El," Kara breathed out, muffled and broken and terrified of the lack of response.

Her hands in clenched fists, her eyes glazed over, her figure a shivering mess, she didn't realize that it had started raining, and most importantly, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps. The raindrops fell on her, in front of her, around her, soaking her shirt and forcing her hair into frizzy curls. The pitter patter echoed, the forest begging her to go back, to wrap its protective branches around her and cover her up, from the rain and the cold and whatever else could harm her, but Kara was stuck on the spot, only halfway aware, replaying a past memory.

He'd flown away during a gentle shower, much like this one. She'd sent him away in a rush, with a breathless kiss, with a late confession, with a desperate offering. "This will keep you safe," she'd told him, after he'd closed his fist around her necklace. And then she'd watched him go away, surrendering to the fate _she_ had chosen for him.

Kara gripped that same necklace — he'd given it back to her. But it was no longer hers, she couldn't think of it that way. It was Mon-El's now, and it always would be, and that was why he'd given it to her. "This will keep you safe," he'd told her, after he'd locked the chain in place around her neck. And although there had been no rush, no breathless kiss, no late confession, there had still been a desperate offering. And then he'd watched her fly away, just like she'd had.

Maybe they were destined to repeat their history, meant to live in doubles. They met twice, they hoped twice, they lost twice. Two _hellos_ , two _goodbyes_ , two hearts mending and breaking in between. And maybe that was the end of it — the end of doubles for Kara. Because this was her third chance, her third life, her third world, her third home. Maybe that was how it was meant to be; endure the absences to get herself out of the vicious circle. But the truth was, she couldn't help but wonder, about their love, would they also love _twice_?

Kara knew that her heart still longed for Mon-El, still clang to Mon-El, still screamed for Mon-El. But she had let him go, when he'd said it'd been about time he returned to the future. She had cut that tie, that frail, _so frail_ hope that she could still have him. Admittedly, she should've done that way before that, she should've done it the moment he'd said he was married, but it didn't matter now. All that mattered was that she had, eventually, let go of him.

Surely, that might be sounding a little ironic, considering that she still whispered his name at her time of need, but it wasn't like he could hear her, right? It wasn't like he'd ever know how shamelessly her heart still called for him. So why would she care? Why would she stop herself? Kara couldn't find a reason.

But then she heard it, that familiar sigh, that gentle voice. "Hey, what are you doing out here? You're going to freeze Kara, come on, let's get you somewhere dry."

Blue eyes widened in response and Kara turned to look at Mon-El. He wrapped his jacket around her shoulders, held her tightly and searched her eyes, for what she didn't know.

"You okay?" Mon-El asked, his worry loud though not enough to break through Kara's haze. He pushed her hair out of her face and wiped her cheek. Her skin was cold to the touch, which made his frown deeper. "Kara," he called out softly. "Are you hurt?"

The blonde finally responded with a shake of her head. "No, no, I'm-" she croaked out and cleared her throat to fix the crack in her voice. "I'm fine," she said.

"Okay," Mon-El nodded and helped her up in a standing position.

"You shouldn't be here, what are you doing here?" Kara couldn't help but ask, her head clearing, her thoughts falling back in a logical order.

Mon-El looked away for a second before his eyes locked with Kara's again. He touched the necklace around her neck, his thumb stroking the drop-shaped jewel. "I couldn't trust this to keep you safe, I had to see for myself."

"I'm fine," Kara repeated her previous words, this time steadily and without a hint of doubt.

"I know," Mon-El agreed. "But I'm not."

Kara's eyebrows furrowed in confusion but she didn't have time to speak before Mon-El did again.

"I can't be away from you," he said.

The blonde took a step back. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Mon-El ran a hand through his hair, fingers tugging on a strand for a short second. "When I left you, I didn't have a choice, but now I do and I don't want to leave you again," he admitted.

"What about Imra?"

"I choose you," Mon-El replied simply, as if that was all the explanation he had to give, all that he needed to say.

Maybe it was.

"What...what are you saying?" Kara bit her lip, puzzled and trying to ignore the way her heart pounded behind her ribcage.

Mon-El let his mouth stretch in a small smile. "I'm yours," he stated. "If you'll have me."

Kara let a second pass, then two, then three, waiting for the dream to end and for her brain to wake her up. She waited for the rain to stop, for Mon-El to disappear, for the scenery to change. She waited but nothing happened. Mon-El still stood there, looking at her, expecting and waiting himself, his words echoing in her ears. At last, albeit a little reluctantly, the blonde accepted that this was in fact real.

"Always," she breathed out and erased the distance between them. "Always."

"Really?"

Kara laughed. "Really," she confirmed with a nod and didn't waste another second. She fell into Mon-El, their lips crashing together, with force and with need and with hunger. They moved together, breathed together, tugging at each other as if there was any space left between them, as if they weren't joined almost skin to skin. They kissed, the time escaping them, becoming an illusion. Reality faded, the world was dulled, and all that existed was them two, impossibly close and so very real, a burst of color in a picture painted black and white. They stole each other's breath, clawed at each other's skin, wanting more, needing more, demanding more. But the thing is, they had it all, of each other and for one another. They had it all.

"I've missed doing this," Kara mumbled, panting and quiet. She leaned her forehead against Mon-El's own and gripped his shirt with a fist, her other hand glued to the side of his neck.

"Me too," Mon-El muttered, eyes halfway open and staring into Kara's. "I missed you," he held the blonde tighter against him, a whine faintly echoing behind his words.

"I thought I'd lost you," Kara confessed, and with that her shoulders slumped, her hold on Mon-El growing stronger.

He didn't respond out loud, instead opting to pull her in his embrace. He placed a kiss atop her head and waited for Kara to break, to let it out. To Mon-El's utter surprise, that didn't happen. Kara only clang to him, silently expressing that _don't leave me_  Mon-El himself had been wanting to tell her. So they stayed like that, stood like that, two figures wrapped around one another, under the drizzle and the darkened sky, as if there was no other place they'd rather be.

"You never lost me," Mon-El said into Kara's ear, the phrase not whispered, not wavering, not shy. He said it loud and clear, like that was the one thing he'd always been certain of. Then he closed his eyes and let himself relax, let his heart believe that it'd finally had all it'd been asking for.

Kara lifted her head at that, searched Mon-El's face out of habit, out of fear of finding something different than what his words had expressed. But she didn't find anything. And so she stroked his cheek, brushed his wet hair away from his forehead, and pecked his lips one last time, only firm enough to make sure it was still all real. She didn't need further confirmation after that.


End file.
